Drunk as a Skunk With Some Funky Funk Funk
by just giddy
Summary: hehehehe, i like the title...OWKB oneshot. rating is for mentioning of alcohol and effects on teenage behavior. includes trashed characters :3.


**Hmmm, I'm trying to find a cure for these oneshot bug. Maybe if I write them out it'll eventually stop. I guess this is what happens when you go a year writing and only sticking with your chapter stories….I'll tell you if I find a cure.**

Katie Bell was never a big party girl. Many people found it quite amusing that she wouldn't touch a fire whiskey while the rest of her team was turning bottoms up. Her friends thought that this was for the better. Katie was known to be happy-go-lucky and spontaneous sober; Merlin only knew what she would be like drunk.

Now she was perfectly fine with this. She didn't need to get drunk to have a good time and besides-somebody had to watch out for Oliver when he had one too many and drag everyone back to the tower. Not many would expect the maniacal Quidditch captain to drink seeing as he was Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch all the time. Not that he was a drunk-it just always came as a surprise when he would grabbed spiked butter beer at one of the Hufflepuff parties. But seeing as Katie was the 'designated driver' it wasn't a surprise to her when she found herself holding his hair off his forehead and patting his back while he was sick later.

So that is why Oliver would like someone to explain why his star chaser was acting like she just finished off a whole case of Firewhiskey on her own.

"Hey, red-head," Oliver said, grabbing the back of one of his beater's shirts as they walked by, "Is that Katie?" he asked over the loud music, pointing to the golden blonde who swaying back and forth to the music off-beat.

Fred squinted his eyes-purely just to annoy his captain, "Hmm…that blue half-shirt sure looks familiar…" he mused mockingly, "I'm sure Angelina was wearing that last week when we were in that broom closet-" Oliver smacked him upside the head, "Ok, ok, _yes_-that IS Katie-kinns. Are you happy now and can I please have my shirt back?"

Oliver let go of the back of his shirt even though he was far from happy. With a sigh he put down the butterbeer he had been nursing on one of the tables in the Hufflepuff common room before twisting through the crowd to where his chaser was 'dancing'.

He let out a sigh rather than a laugh as he came to stand behind her-she was so off beat it was funny. She wasn't even really dancing, it was more like 'standing in the middle of everyone and swaying back and forth pathetically'. His eyes traveled down her 5'7" athletic stature. Her golden blonde hair fell straight down to her shoulder blades and contrasted marvelously to the night sky-blue shirt she was wearing. Now, it wasn't Oliver's fault that she had in fact chosen to wear an off-the-shoulder half shirt and therefore that he could see every movement in her lower back. It also wasn't his fault that she had chosen to wear a particularly tight pair of pants which in his position looked absolutely bloody-

Oliver shook his head. That was one of the things he could not afford to think.

_Unless he was drunk himself_…he smirked to himself. But the problem was that he drink any where near enough to think that. He let out another sigh this time accompanied with a pair of rolled eyes before he took another step to her and put his hands on her hips. He started to move to the music himself while guiding her back to the right beat.

"Have a little too much, eh Bell?" He whispered in her ear.

Katie turned on her heel and Oliver tried not to let out a groan at how glassed over her green eyes were. And he tried no to notice how absolutely bloody-he shook his head again-she looked from the front in that attire.

She suddenly threw her arms around his neck, "Ollie!" she giggled into his shoulder before looking back up at him, "You gonna dance with me?"

"No-"

"Oh c'mon, Ollie-oxen free!" she begged, tugging on the front of his black button down, "Just one?"

"Ok, ok," he sighed, "Just one then I'm taking you straight back to the tower."

"Fine," she giggle again as a new song came one, "But make it a good one."

Oliver rolled his eyes again as he placed his hands back on her hips and she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly and started to move to the music again. Now he knew why Katie was better off without drinking- her drunken ego was _girly. _Oliver can't say he especially liked all the giggling and pet names, but she look absolutely bloody-he shook his head again as her flat stomach came back to mind. Even so he couldn't help to feel that her smaller frame felt right leaning against his larger one.

"Hey Ollie?" Katie asked, looking up at him, a lock of hair falling in front of her face. "How's come you've neva danced with me before?"

He furrowed his brow, "I don't know-I suppose you're my chaser and all. It would be like dancing with one of the Weasleys," he said truthfully. he saw a look of disappointment and confusion of being compared to one of the twins fall across her face. He let his expression soften into a small smile before reaching up and tucking the lock of hair back behind her ear, "I promise to make it up to you next time when you're not as drunk as a skunk."

"I am not!" she protested, playfully slapping him on the shoulder with a giggle. "It's just that you're so drunk you think I'm drunk."

"But you are Kat," he laughed.

"Am not!"

"Ok, you're not," he smiled down at her. He wasn't so sure as to why he was smiling-seeing his star chaser this out of it normally wasn't a good thing. "I'm the drunk one."

"So then stop kissing me."

"What are you-?" His whole body went rigid as she pressed her lips against hers. He was going to push her off but she was just so absolutely bloody-he pulled away and grabbed her by the elbow, "Ok, Kat. We're leaving," he said, dragging her out of the large mass of dancing teens.

"Where you going?" Angelina called as Oliver passed with Katie in tow.

"Back to the tower," he said in an irritated voice.

"Ollie, Ollie, OLIVER WAIT!" Katie cried once a few corridors and a staircase away, pulling her arm out of his grasp. He almost forgot how strong she was "Why do I have to leave?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, matta' of fact, I am," she said, crossing her arms across her chest, leaving her flat stomach perfectly framed between her low rise jeans and half shirt.

"B-because," he stuttered for a moment, forcing himself to look her directly in her glazed green eyes. "because you polished off one fire whiskey too many."

"Well look who's talking," she said in a lighter tone, but Oliver wasn't so surprised to see a defiance look in her eyes, "How many times have I saved your sorry Scottish ass?"

He crossed his own arms, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"How many nights have I spent with you in the bathroom?" she demanded, poking him in the chest, "How many times have I held your hair off your face? How many times did I make sure you got back in-tack when YOU had too many?"

"Katie, look-"

"Don't you 'Katie, look' me!" she yelled. "I wanna know the damn true reason why you made me leave."

He took a deep breath. With any luck she wouldn't remember half of the night anyway, "Because you look _absolutely bloody irresistible_. That's why," he scowled, "and half of those guys in there can't control their brains let alone the rest of them and I won't let my star chaser go _carousing_ with any of them."

"Any of them or you?" she challenged in a softer voice, taking a step closer to him so they were nearly nose to nose. Oliver wondered how she could still put up a good fight like this.

"Both!" he shouted without thinking. Then what he said hit him and instantly wished he hadn't said anything at all, "Katie, look-"

"Don't you 'Katie, look' me," she said, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling his mouth down on hers.

Oliver knew it was wrong. He knew it was wrong that he was kissing her back. He knew it was wrong that they were throwing so much hunger into it. He knew it was wrong that he didn't fend her off when she backed him up against the wall. He knew it was wrong that he ran a hand up and down her leg when she hooked it around his. And above all he knew it was wrong that he was enjoying it just as much as he enjoyed Quidditch.

"Katie," Oliver managed to get out through her persistence, "Katie, this isn't right."

"Then why are you still kissing me?" she asked as she captured his mouth again which he wasn't exactly against.

"Katie, look-"

"I thought I told you stop with those."

He smiled against her lips but pushed her away by her shoulders when he felt her hands duck underneath his shirt, "Katie, you're my chaser, and you've had too much to drink and-"

"-and I don't care!" she shouted. "You've never looked at me like this before and you would've never even thought about _this_ before now."

"And what is _this_?" he demanded, keeping her at arms length. "You've had too much to drink, I can't help that you look absolutely bloody irresistible, and I'm your captain. We shouldn't be doing any of _this_. Katie, it's my last year, I don't want to screw everything up with you."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" she shouted, "All of a sudden _I'm_ a screw up?"

"Katie, if I ever had a relationship with you other than what we already have-I wouldn't want it to be some one-snog stand," he explained. He looked at her expectedly and then he remembered how dazed out she looked and let out a long sigh. "But there's no use explaining to you that while your like this."

"You are so-" she started, pointing an accusing finger at him with a glare to follow it up. But suddenly the furrow in her brow and the tension in her jaw dropped along with her hand which flew to her stomach, "Oh Godric, I don't feel so hot…"

"Well you still look it if it makes you feel any better," he muttered hurriedly as he grabbed her hand and dragged her into the nearest bathroom.

"Ugh…"

"There, there," Oliver cooed while holding back her hair and rubbing her back. "You're alright Bell, you're alright."

With one last retching sound Katie flushed the toilet in the seventh year boys adjoining bathroom before sinking down to the floor. With a few stops along the way in several different bathrooms Oliver had managed to get her to the common room but the second she sat down on the couch she felt sick again-his was the closest bathroom that he knew would be open.

"Thanks Ol'," she murmured, wiping her mouth and finally sobering up.

"Anytime," he said, sitting next to her in the small bathroom, "I owed you a few anyway."

"Well thanks still…" she muttered before looking up at him, "I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"

The whole night's escapades flashed through his mind. From her dancing like a drunk to retching in his toilet.

He gave her a small smile before wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "Nah, nothing too bad."

"Thanks," she muttered, resting her head against his shoulder.

They sat like that for a while. Laying his head on top of hers, Oliver thought that it might be better not to mention that night ever again and that he should let things lie the way they were. It sounded like a good idea. Katie let out a long sigh and Oliver smiled-thinking that everything was over and done with…until Katie bolted up again to use the services of the toilet.

"It's ok, you're alright, Bell, you're alright."

An hour later it was getting near midnight and none of Oliver's dorm mates had come back. Even Percy who Oliver was sure was snogging that Clearwater girl somewhere. Leaving his chaser sitting half-asleep on his bed (in a pair of Puddlemere sweat pants and a tee shirt he had lent her) after pushing her into the shower, he went back into his bathroom, changed, and washed up. At the moment he would've liked nothing more to take his own shower but figured a washed face would have to do. Coming back out in his own sweats and tee shirt, he saw Katie laying asleep on his bed. Rolling his eyes with a small smile-he had only been gone tow minutes-he walked over and gently nudged her awake.

"Katie, Katie, wake up."

"Mmm…go away," she said, curling up into a ball and clutching his sheets in a fist, "Have practice without me."

"Katie, you've got to get to bed."

"That's what I've been saying," she mumbled, her eyes still clamped shut. "Now lemme get some sleep cap'n."

"Bell."

"I'm not going to practice, Wood."

"Bell you've got to get to your own bed."

"Go get your own Wood."

"Fine, you take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor," he sighed before reaching over her to grab a pillow and yank a sheet out from under her. He set them up next to the edge of the bed in a way that looked slightly comfortable, "We are even now, ok Bell?"

"Fine…just lemme get some sleep already…" he heard her yawn as he settled down.

Within two minutes he heard her snoring. But Oliver himself could not get any sleep. He was tired alright, but the whole night kept running through his head like a tape and everytime he got to the end it would just rewind and start from the beginning again. He tried pushing it out of his mind but still could not get to sleep. Eventually Katie started talking lightly in her sleep.

"…damn Scotsman….what the hell….get that kilt off already, Wood………really, you're not doing us any favors flying around in that…."

Oliver tried not to laugh out loud. He could only imagine what scene was running through her head. But the fact that he had a part in her sleeping head still brought a smile to his face.

"Mercy Mary-mother of God…" Katie moaned as she sat up in an unfamiliar bed. "…my head…" she rubbed her temples with her forefinger and thumb only to find that it didn't do much help. She ran a hand through her golden blonde hair and wondered why it was slightly damp.

Looking around she wondered how she got to where she was-and even her location was a mystery at first. Then she saw the many Quidditch posters around the bed of the Puddlemere team. With a sigh and a smile of relief as she recognized Oliver's bed. With a contented flop backwards she let herself fall back onto the pillow behind her. Taking a deep breath into the pillow she relished how much it smelt like him-like just cut grass after a good rain. She smiled into the fluffy thing, her eyes closing slowly. But then the fact that she was laying in Oliver's bed hit her and she sat back up startled. Throwing the covers off her she let out another sigh when she saw the sweats she was in-but that was quickly replaced by another wave of shock as she realized that these were certainly not her clothes. Looking around she saw her clothes neatly folded on a nearby chair. She let another sigh as the folded clothes told her nothing too disastrous happened last night.

Last night.

She couldn't say she remembered all of it. Actually she couldn't say she remembered half of it.

She remembered complaining to Alicia and Angelina that _he_ never seemed to notice her or something like that. That was when Angelina passed her her famous shirt (she claimed that it had never failed) and Alicia passed her a butterbeer. Katie smiled, it wasn't like Alicia had gotten her drunk, actually, it was probably the only unspiked butterbeer she had all night. Butterbeer was comfort food. She remembered walking into the Hufflepuff common room and talking to the twins and that where her memory failed her besides some scared pictures where she saw some familiar portraits hanging in some corridor.

Letting out a groan and closing her eyes she let herself fall on her side to the edge of the bed. Her head was hanging towards the floor along with her right arm and shoulder. Opening her eyes she completely fell off the bed.

"…Oof!"

"Oh jeez, Ol'," she said, rolling off him, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to I swear," she continued as he sat up with a start and just looked at her confused. "I'm sorry, you know what a klutz I am-I fell off the bed. I didn't meant to but I was just startled to see you and you know, happen to wake up in your bed and I'm really sorry again and will you please tell me that I didn't do anything stupid last night because I can't remember and all this talking is giving me an even bigger headache."

Oliver let out a small laugh as she started rubbing her head again. "Don't worry about it, Katie," he assured her, pulling her hands away from her furrowed brow, "C'mon, lets go get you something for that."

"Are you SURE I didn't do anything stupid last night?" she asked again as they made their way down to the hospital wing for some pepper-up potion.

Oliver looked over to his chaser. She was looking up at him with those big green eyes of her, tremendous bed hair which oddly looked rather good on her all messy and frizzy, while she trudged next to him in oversized sweats and tee shirt.

He smiled at her Quidditch-tanned face, "I'm sure," he said reassuringly.

It's not that Oliver Alban Wood was a liar. Oh no, he was a man of tradition. He would tell her….eventually.

**This is what happens when you leave a bored teen author alone in the house by herself…she write weird things. I don't know why but I had the inspiration to wrote Katie drunk, you know, just for fun. I had this for a week or so but I figure I should put it up now in hopes that my constant reviewers will forgive me for writing that Katie/Fred one-shot. God know they're diehards for Oliver…please review!**


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